


Her Political Hostage

by ConvenientAlias



Series: Political Hostage Verse [1]
Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: “You may not find your stay here enjoyable,” Attolia said. “But you will learn more about kingship than you ever could under the magus.” She placed a hand on his shoulders. “A king must learn how to wrangle snakes and worms.”Or, the one where Eugenides leaves Sophos and the magus at Attolia's court at the end of The Thief, and Attolia finds Sophos...interesting. And as a hostage against Sounis, rather useful. Whether he could be anything more than that to her remains to be seen.





	Her Political Hostage

Attolia only received the full report the next morning when all the chaos had settled. All night, she had barely gotten any sleep. Now Teleus stood before her with the leader of the squadron sent after the young thief, and he told her their quarry got clean away.

She wished she were more surprised, or less bitterly disappointed. The gods had never favored her side of any battle, but for once she had thought she had the power of numbers, of weaponry, of force, so rarely her advantage. But no. The Thief of Eddis had slipped through her fingers. She was not sure if she was more disappointed in herself for having failed to challenge him or for having imagined, even for a moment, that he might have been swayed to join her side.

She asked Teleus, “What of the others?”

“The magus of Sounis and Sophos are still securely locked up. It seems the thief did not even try to set them free. A wise choice. They are unaware of his escape, although they will have noticed the increased number of guards around their cell.”

She steepled her fingers. 

“Bring them to me. No, wait.” She had not eaten yet. “An hour. Bring them to me then.” It would give her time to gather her thoughts as well.

“Yes, my queen.”

* * *

 

“You do not have Hamiathes’ Gift.”

“No, your majesty.”

The magus of Sounis stood with his back straight, his legs unbent. After a night in the dungeons even that was a spectacular feat, as was his ability to meet her eyes. Many men could not manage the second even without her ire upon them. And she was not happy with the magus. Not in the slightest. The man had not only come to her country to steal from her but had brought the Thief of Eddis with him, and even if he did it unaware, it was the greatest offense she could imagine.

She turned to Sophos instead.

Sophos also had excellent posture, no doubt drummed into him by the magus and an instinctive imitation of the magus even now. But she could see the tension in his shoulders, in his neck and spine. And his eyes were fixed firmly upon the ground.

“Sophos,” she said. She stepped towards him.

“Yes, your majesty?”

His voice was level enough.

“Look at me, Sophos,” she said.

He looked up.

She had never met the heir of Sounis before. He was young after all, only sixteen. She had not attended his uncle’s coronation so many years ago, nor had there been any event since then great enough to drag her across Eddis and into the land of new gods and royals aggressive enough to remind her of her own. Relius had given her reports of all political events and personages, and of course he had told her of Sophos’ position and his name and all of his very feeble political connections. The spies had reported along with pertinent political information a variety of personal information as well: his food preferences, his early infatuation with a serving girl that quickly withered under parental disapproval, his idol worship of Ambiades, a detailed description of his looks. She could have figured out a plan to assassinate him within instants. She was less sure how to deal with him face to face.

His eyes were watery, wavery. His hair was dirty and it was falling in his face. He didn’t lift a hand to brush it away.

“Yes, your majesty?”

What had they been talking about?

“Your magus chooses to prevaricate. I will hear the truth from you. Where is Hamiathes’ Gift?”

He swallowed. “It fell in a stream. We do not have it anymore. Your majesty.”

She took a step back.

It was a waste of time, really. Common sense told her that Eugenides had taken the gift from them, and no doubt was bringing it to Eddis even as they spoke. But until Relius brought her more news from the Eddisian court she could not know for certain, and she did not like the thought of admitting Eugenides’ victory to these other guests. They, her prisoners, did not need to know that their common enemy had defeated her as well.

What was she to do with them now?

“Sophos,” she said. There was intimacy in the name. He had never introduced himself to her, but had been announced by a guard when he was first dragged into her presence. That had been two nights ago. A brief acquaintance. She shook her head. “You expect me to excuse your thievery simply because you lost its fruits?”

“We’re very sorry…”

The silly boy still thought apologies might work with her. She turned to the magus. “Fine. You lost the Gift. Then what do you have to satisfy me?”

“We are at your majesty’s service.”

The words, formal and simple, offended her. They reminded her of a certain thief whose services she had desired, whose services she had been denied.

“I do not want your service,” she said to the magus. “I did not want you on my land, stealing my belongings. Not either of you. Now what can you do to make that up to me?” She raised a single eyebrow, not moving another muscle of her face.

The magus wet his lips. “If you contact Sounis…”

“He will extend his insincere apologies and perhaps offer me gold,” Attolia said. “I do not want his gold. I want him to stop interfering on my land.” She smiled. “And what do you think he will do if I do not return his heir to him? What if I killed his heir, and sent the news home with his magus?”

In the periphery of her vision she could see Sophos standing very still. It was admirable how the boy tried to be brave. Perhaps he had learned it from the thief. She doubted he had learned it from his other idol, Ambiades.

“That would start a war, your majesty,” the magus said. “And you do not want a war.”

“You are presumptuous to claim you know what I want.”

She stepped back to Sophos. Standing behind the magus, always slightly behind, as if he were lesser in rank rather than one of the highest ranked nobles in the three nations. “Then what do you think, boy? What if I send your body home to Sounis with the magus? How would he react?”

“That would start a war,” Sophos said. “Your majesty.”

Echoing his elders. The magus had trained him by rote memorization, no doubt. Still, there was again a certain bravery to the response. Or perhaps bravado was a better word for it—but then, what man could muster better in the face of death?

“You are accepting of the possibility,” she said. “Are you not afraid to die?”

Sophos smiled. It was a small smile, and for that all the more odd. Bluffing men grinned and smirked. This smile was not a bluff, though that did not make it happy. It was empty, and his eyes strayed to the wall behind her.

He said, “You may do as you wish.”

“Do you wish to die?”

He shrugged. It was the most natural movement he had made in her presence. He did not meet her eyes.

A soldier, she remembered, had died when Sophos was captured. A man named Polyfemus who was rumored to be close to Sophos.

She wondered if it was the first time he had experienced loss.

“You will not die today,” she said. “Perhaps tomorrow.” 

She turned to the guards. “Bring the magus back to his cell. Sounis’ heir is royalty—find a chamber for him, well guarded but well furnished.” To Sophos, she said, “You might consider bathing.”

The magus said, “If he is harmed…”

“War, yes, I know.” She smiled thinly. “I do not need you to advise me how to run my megaron or my country. Unlike Sounis, I’ve worked that out for myself.”

* * *

 

Sophos cleaned up well. Without filth practically combed into his hair and massaged into his skin like a lotion, his skin was clear and unmarred and his hair was coarse but thick and textured. He looked like an heir to Sounis indeed, and no longer like the gutter scum he had pretended to be when infiltrating her country. Though who knew which look truly conveyed his inner nature? He had hardly acted as royalty when stealing from her land.

Attolia, of course, did not find out anything about Sophos’ appearance for another three days. Although her men reported to her that he had bathed and was eating regularly—and that he had only made one very stupid escape attempt through a window, ending with a sprained ankle—she did not have the time to deal with him personally. But on the third day, shortly after the escape attempt, she finally summoned him. One could not leave rash boys to stew for too long. They became dangerous rather than simply intimidated.

He was not as quiet this time. The guards half carried him in by his elbows—probably for the best, since he could barely walk on his ankle—and dumped him on his knees at her feet. He grunted angrily as he tried to struggle to his feet. She walked over to him, and his head brushed against her skirt. It startled him, and he started backwards, crying out in pain when he jolted his ankle. She grabbed his shoulder to hold him still.

“Behave yourself,” she said severely.

He gritted his teeth.

She released his shoulder and backed away. “My men tell me you have been acting foolishly. Though you are being treated as a guest, that does not mean you have permission to leave. You can always rejoin the magus.”

“I would rather be in a cell than separated from him,” Sophos said. “Bring me back to him.” He tried to rise again, and this time succeeded, putting all his weight on his good leg. “I might be more valuable but if you’ve hurt him…”

When the magus made threats they were diplomatic and easily backed. But Sophos’ threats were all hot air, all boyish recklessness and pointless fire. She shook her head. “Did I give you permission to rise?”

“What?”

“My guards put you on your knees. Down.” She stared at him until he reluctantly sank back down on the ground. She folded her arms. “You’re showing a lot of nerve today.”

“What have you done with the magus?” he said. “What did you do to Gen?”

“Gen?”

“The thief who was captured with us,” Sophos said. He was turning red. “He said he wouldn’t serve you and you took him away. What did you do to him?”

Ah. Eugenides. 

She had almost managed to forget Eugenides.

“I cared for his wounds for a day,” she said. “I would have nursed him back for health. I have respect for skill. Unfortunately he escaped. I cannot imagine that was good for his wounds.”

She had heard from Relius that Eugenides had arrived at the Eddisian court after all, with the Gift intact. Eddis had been pleased, and Eugenides had collapsed and was currently recovering. A happy ending. Eddis always managed to reap a happy ending, after all.

“Liar.”

Shaken from her thoughts, Attolia looked down at Sophos. “What did you say?”

“Liar.”

The guards, who had not left the room, were looking at her, waiting for orders. She shook her head. Instead, she said, “Your thief was the one who was lying to you. He was sent from Eddis to steal the Hamiathes’ Gift from you. When he had his chance, he took it and ran.”

“He didn’t abandon us at the pass.”

“He is a strange boy. But he is gone now, back to his mistress Eddis. And so you can see he was not your friend.”

“Prove it.” Sophos’ fists were clenched at his sides. “Prove you didn’t kill him. He wouldn’t leave us here. Anyways he couldn’t, not with the hole you poked in his chest.”

“He killed one of my men.”

“You killed Pol!”

And so this sudden anger was explained. Death always did take a while to sink in. 

“I have killed many men,” Attolia said. “But I did not kill your serving man.”

“He died on your orders.”

“I did not order his death, only your capture,” Attolia said. “If he died, it was because of you.” She reached forward and touched his cheek. Warm. “If you cannot accept that, you will never be a leader of men.”

“You had Gen killed,” Sophos whispered. He no longer seemed accusatory. Instead, he seemed to cling to the words like a lifeline. He wanted to believe her a demon. But then, a lot of people did.

“Eugenides is alive at Eddis’ court, if my reports are correct,” Attolia said. “If he deserted you, that is not my fault either. Nor is your incarceration here. You have reaped what your foolhardy expedition sowed.”

He should have protested it was the magus’ stupid plan all along. But he did not. To him, perhaps, he was just an extension of the magus.

Attolia frowned. She took her hand away from his cheek, briefly ruffling his hair before straightening. “I can give you three pieces of advice. The first is to stop mourning your serving man. He knew the risks of guarding a prince. The second is to trust your magus less blindly. He led you into this disaster.” She gestured to the guards, who lifted Sophos to his feet. He did not struggle against them this time. “The third is to relax and enjoy your stay. It may end in your death or torture, but you can hardly help that at this point. Your accommodations should be adequate, and if they are not you may send me a message.” She waved at the door. “You are dismissed.”

As the guards escorted him away, he called back to her, “Your majesty, I would like to see the magus!”

So he did remember how to properly address her. “No,” she said as the guards pulled the door closed behind him. “I think not.”

* * *

 

“My queen,” Relius said. “The king of Sounis has sent you a communication.”

She read it thoroughly. 

“What do you think?”

Relius said, “He offers fair terms for the magus’ release, and his heir’s as well.”

An exorbitant ransom and favorable trade conditions for the next year. One could hardly expect better, and she had not planned to exact more than this from him when she first realized the position she would be in if she succeeded in capturing the magus’ party. Still, some part of her now held back.

She wrote out a rather cold response. Demanded more gold. Demanded better terms. She handed it to Relius, who read it through.

“You think this is foolish,” she said when he failed to comment.

“I would never dare to criticize my queen.”

She picked up a new piece of parchment. Wrote out a new response. The terms would be accepted, she wrote. He would only have to send her the gold, and Sophos and the magus would be released. 

Relius liked this one better.

Pursing her lips, she read through both letters again. And again. The one expressed her frustration, was closer to what she really wanted to say. The other was reasonable. Diplomatic.

She folded them both up, and handed them to Relius. “For now, keep these safe. I will give you my decision tomorrow.”

“As you wish, my queen.”

* * *

 

She went to visit Sophos in his room. It had been a couple days. They had given him one of the worse rooms, but in a secure section of the megaron. And none of the rooms were very bad except for the servants’ quarters and the cells.

“How is your ankle?”

She had allowed him to sit this time, and she sat next to him. At a table with a vase of flowers in the middle that obscured half of his face from view. Half of hers as well. He would not be able to read her emotions.

“It is better.”

Quiet, again?

“And do you still mourn Polyfemus?”

“I mourn a man who was close to me.”

“You are thinking about what you would give to have him back.”

“I would have died in his place.”

“I do not think he would have preferred that.” Attolia folded her hands on the table. “Politically, it would have been very stupid.”

“I don’t care about politics.”

“But you must. It is all people like us have,” Attolia said. “You will be Sounis one day, and Eddis and I will be at your throat. Will you let us eat you up because you do not care for politics?”

Sophos said, “Sounis may have an heir.”

“And if he doesn’t? Ah, but I know. You will take advisors. They will make your decisions, and you can stand back and let them do what they want. A shadow prince becomes a shadow king.”

“No.”

“Have you thought over my second piece of advice?” Attolia said. “Will you always trust your magus?”

“He is trustworthy.”

“You are blind.” 

Blind and painfully young. He understood what she was telling him. He was just willfully deaf. He did not want to believe he would ever have to think for himself, ever have to lead, or ever have to cease loving the man who was his guide. It was no wonder this fool had trusted Eugenides. But like Eugenides, others would play on that blindness. Sounis would rip him apart.

If she gave him back to Sounis.

“Did you listen to my third piece of advice?”

“I have bathed.”

He did smell considerably better. “And have you considered how your stay here may end?”

“You told me not to.”

“You haven’t followed any of the rest of my advice.”

Sophos was silent. Then, “Does my uncle know what has happened to us?”

“He knows. He has sent me a letter.” She leaned forward. “If I did kill you, what do you truly think he would do? Tell me honestly, now. There’s no magus here to mark you down.”

“He would start a war.”

“Ah?”

“It would hurt his pride too much. He would start a war.”

Yes, the king of Sounis did suffer from an abundance of pride. His greatest weakness, no doubt. Apart from his trust in the magus, which usually had better results than this. But somehow, the answer did not satisfy Attolia. She said, “Would he be saddened by your death?”

“He’s never liked me very much.”

“Why not?”

Sophos shrugged uncomfortably. “I suppose for the same reasons as you. I’m not a strong leader, and I follow people too easily. I like books and I don’t like fighting. I care about people too much.”

Simply blurting out his perceived weaknesses. A true innocent—not that she hadn’t known all of these things already. “Why do you think I don’t like you?”

Sophos almost laughed. Managing to stifle it, he said, “Do you?”

She leaned back. “I don’t have an opinion. You hardly merit the attention.”

Through the flower arrangement, she could see him studying her. Perhaps he could tell she was lying. Probably not. Hardly anyone ever could.

“You are very soft,” she remarked. “You should not care what other people think of you.”

“Why do you think I do?”

“Don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“You shouldn’t care what I might think of you,” Attolia said. “I might kill you, but I am not a judge.”

Sophos nodded so gravely it seemed almost like a bow.

Attolia said, “Do you care what Sounis thinks of you?”

“Sounis is my king.”

“Do you love him?”

Sophos flushed.

It hardly mattered whether he did or didn’t. Humiliating to admit either way, that he hated his king or that he loved a man who seemed to despise him. But he cared. Oh yes, he definitely cared.

There was no reason for Attolia to resent that.

“Kings do not have to be loved,” she said idly. “I have a multitude of subjects and very few of them can be said to love me.” She had suspicions, at times, that Teleus might have something of a heart. And she’d heard rumors of oddly devoted citizens near the coast thanks to favorable trade of late. Apart from that…

“I’m sure you’re wrong,” Sophos said earnestly.

“Are you contradicting me?”

He shook his head. Hard. “I am sure you are very loved among your people, your majesty.”

“I am not a loveable monarch.” She scrutinized him. His wide eyes, his tangled gold hair. “I think your subjects will love you when you are king, if you can ever manage to be more than a figurehead.”

“Oh. Maybe. I hope so.”

“And if I don’t kill you within the next week.”

“I hope you don’t.”

So he’d changed his mind from a few days ago on that matter. But he didn’t seem very frightened all the same. Maybe he’d decided Attolia liked him and didn’t want to kill him. Maybe he was right.

“You’ll be a decent king. But not the way the magus is teaching you.”

“The magus does his best.”

The magus could guide people who were willing to follow. He could not teach leadership.

Attolia stood and straightened her skirts. “The news from Eddis says Eugenides has greatly recovered from his sword wound.”

“Oh.”

“Are you happy?”

Sophos bit his lip.

“He deserted you in the face of danger and stole a great asset to your nation, and the entire time he knew you he was lying to your face,” Attolia said. “But you won’t get much better than that at court. You’re allowed to be pleased.”

“I liked him.”

“Mm.” She would have liked him too, if he had agreed to serve her.

It would have been nice.

With a nod to Sophos she said, “You may see your magus soon. But not yet.”

* * *

 

She tore up both the letters. Wrote up a third one. 

Relius disapproved.

She sent it anyway.

* * *

 

She allowed the magus to clean himself before summoning him again. And of course Sophos. The boy would have run to the magus as soon as he came through the door—into a private meeting room, where Attolia had chosen to speak with him on this occasion—if not for his ankle. Which the magus immediately noted. He glared at Attolia.

The nerve.

“I did nothing to him,” Attolia said. “He jumped out a window. He was lucky to only have a sprained ankle for the adventure.”

“If that was a threat, I must remind you…”

“That any bodily harm to the heir of Sounis will have severe military repercussions,” Attolia said. “Do not worry. Your king and I have worked out our differences between ourselves, and we have come to a mutually satisfactory agreement.”

The magus relaxed marginally. “You are releasing us.”

Attolia smiled. “As of today, neither of you shall be prisoners at my court.”

The magus sent a glance to Sophos. Sophos smiled back, somewhat wanly. He was less relieved than the magus. Attolia hoped she had correctly guessed why. She would not regret her decision no matter what either of them thought, but it would be less painful for everyone that way.

“You, magus, will be released and will return immediately to Sounis,” she said. “And not set foot in Attolia again. If you return here, consequences will be harsher than they are this time. Attolia will not be disrespected.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“A price of gold has been agreed upon as well,” Attolia said. “And the heir of Sounis will be staying with me.”

The magus gaped.

“Your majesty?” Sophos said. His eyes were wide.

She wanted to smile at him reassuringly, but she wasn’t sure she knew how to make a smile look reassuring. She hadn’t tried to reassure anyone in years. Instead she continued to look steadfastly at the magus as she said, “He will be a political hostage at my court to ensure Sounis does not attempt to interfere in my country again. Sounis has agreed to these terms.”

“You said you would not hold him prisoner.”

“I offered Sounis two options,” Attolia said. “He could either leave Sophos with me or he could leave you, but offer twice as much gold for Sophos’ ransom. He preferred the first option.”

Sophos was looking at the magus now, his eyes beseeching.

Futile, of course. The magus, Attolia could tell, was calculating the two options. Although the ransom for the magus was already high, it was not merely a matter of money. Attolia was sure that if she had offered to return both the boy and the magus for even triple the gold, Sounis would have been willing. But Sounis required the magus’ services of counsel desperately, especially with the worsening relations between them and Eddis. Sophos would be valuable one day when Sounis died, but Sounis had no intention of dying yet. He still even hoped to gain a new heir.

Most likely the magus would have counseled the king to make the same choice he had, if there were no personal stake in the matter. She could see the knowledge settle in his eyes. But he smiled at Sophos, and on his lips a smile was indeed reassuring, no matter how fake.

He said, “How long will you keep Sophos with you?”

Attolia said, “For as long as I consider Sounis to be a threat. If you wish for his return, you need only improve relations between our two countries.” She did smile now. “Discord between neighbors is not fitting, nor are your king’s ambitions.” Ambitions to rule over all three countries: Eddis, Sounis and Attolia. Ambitions she knew the magus fueled.

“And you will treat him as a guest?”

“An honored guest of my court.”

Sophos said, “Magus.”

The magus said, in a gentler voice than he had been using with Attolia, “It is traditional for courts to hold hostages from each other’s nobility. Many would consider the position an honor. And you may learn many things about Attolian politics and culture.”

Learn about Attolian politics. Attolia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Attolian politics could not be learned as casually as he implied—certainly you could not read the court like a book. Learning Attolian politics was like learning to ride a wild horse while using it to run away from a mountain lion. Of course, Sophos would learn.Staying here, he would hardly be able to help it.

Attolian politics were the only thing that had made her doubt this decision. But she had a firmer grip on the court now than in years past. If she couldn’t keep one political hostage safe from the vipers, she hardly deserved her throne. 

Sophos swallowed. “You will speak to my uncle for me?”

“Certainly. And I will carry a message to your family. I will tell them not to worry.”

Sophos eyed Attolia warily. “All right.”

Attolia allowed him to write out quite a long letter for his family, though she read it over before giving it to the magus to deliver. If it had hidden information she would be surprised—Sophos didn’t seem the type. But one had to be careful. And more importantly, Sophos had to know that from now on he would not be able to communicate with home so freely, that his connections to Sounis were cut.

From now on he was hers. She would decide what he said and to whom he said it, where he went and what he would do. It would be good for him, if he could learn to accept it. And she did not doubt he would. He clearly had accepted the magus’ control of his life for a long time now. Her guidance would simply be more mandatory.

* * *

 

“So I am your guest,” Sophos said.

The magus had departed. Now Sophos' new life began. He looked guarded, more guarded than in previous conversations. She did not know how to alleviate his worries. She only nodded.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Sophos said. “As a hostage. I suppose it comes down to my uncle more than me.” He licked his lips. “Will I be staying in the same room?”

“If you like it. It is well guarded. You may need the protection,” Attolia said. 

He would see the guards as restricting, not protecting, but in truth they would perform both functions. The Attolian court was a dangerous place for an innocent, and she wanted him watched by people she could trust. But neither did she have any intention of permitting him a second, more successful escape attempt. She had allowed his sprained ankle to punish him for the last one. If he tried again she could not be so lenient.

“You will not attend court gatherings with the ambassadors unless invited. That is not your function,” she said. “If you wish to leave the megaron and its grounds, you will obtain leave from me. You will have a guard to follow you at all times. I believe Aristogiton is well suited to the job.”

“Will I see you?” Sophos asked.

“Perhaps as regularly as you see me now. I have many duties, but you are my guest. I will hardly neglect you.”

Sophos nodded. Hesitantly he asked, “Your majesty?”

“Yes, Sophos?”

“Do you think you are going to kill me?”

“That is a very blunt question.”

“I told you my uncle is not attached to me. I do not know what he is likely to do.” He cringed slightly. “Not that I think he is likely to attack you or cause trouble…”

“I will not kill you if I do not have to,” Attolia said. “The same as any other member of my court. You are safe enough.” 

“You do not want to kill me.”

“Whatever the rumors may say,” Attolia said, “I do not enjoy killing anyone.”

Sophos nodded. In a forcedly happy voice he said, “I think I may enjoy my stay here.”

“You may not find it enjoyable,” Attolia said. “But you will learn more about kingship than you ever could under the magus.” She placed a hand on his shoulders. “A king must learn how to wrangle snakes and worms.”

Sophos nodded again. “So that is why you wanted me to stay here.”

“I needed a political hostage. You were handy.”

Sophos flushed. “Of course. My apologies, your majesty.”

“No apology is required.” She hesitated before heading towards the door. “Aristogiton will come soon, and he will show you my megaron. Settle in. I will see you in a few days.”

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things to say about this fic overall:  
> 1\. This was written almost solely because I was talking about crack ships on Tumblr and someone said Attolia/Sophos sounded pretty impossible and it sounded like a challenge.  
> 2\. I also like all fics with captivity and hostages because power imbalance is life.  
> 3\. Look, I personally think anyone would be in love with Attolia so making Sophos fall for her can't be toooo hard, right?  
> 4\. If anyone has a better title idea than "Her Political Hostage" please help me because at this point this fic sounds like a Harlequin novel. I mean, not that that's a bad thing...  
> And comments and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
